A fire crackled before Alisson. He stared dully into it, the drone of the night almost drowning out the talk of his comrades. The 51st would arrive at the Capital soon, but still, everyone was nervous of that night a week ago. They chattered to each other, contemplating if war might be upon them with the Caliphate.
Sidonian brinkmanship, rather, the Lady’s brinkmanship, had saved the Empire from a multi-front war for centuries. But now, in this day and age, humanity had been mostly all united under but a few nations; a far cry from the loose bands of tribes of only a millennia ago.
If the Caliphate really did declare war on them…
Alisson fiddled with a throwing knife of his, the blade dancing in between his fingers, and his eyes glazed over in thought.
Sidonia would be at war with two nations. The two most powerful nations on the continent, that was. The Caliphate was the largest by landmass, and by far had the largest population, but mostly consisted of rural peasants in small farming communities throughout their provinces. Their government was decentralized, spread out across the many feudal provincial lords of their aristocracy, whilst the Caliph himself was but an old man who resided in his palace, surrounded by his concubines without a thought for the world.
Then there was the Irine Principality. Smaller in landmass and population, but their land was more urban, their population was made up of a higher percentage of educated citizens, and it showed in their high-quality armies. Their government was far more centralized, and the Prince took an active role, much like Lady Sidonia. The Principality’s nobility were few, but strong in their influence.
Both nations, if one were to take a war seriously, would stand a great challenge to Sidonia. Sidonia was but a speck at the bottom of the map, resting on a peninsula. It had fertile lands, and was dense in population, and the population that it did have were far above those of the human scum on the rest of the continent. Sidonians were either Nekomata, or humans whom had long had allied themselves with Sidonia. Their low population was what gave Alisson the idea that losing an entire division, ten thousand soldiers, was still a strategic failure on his part even though that they had slaughtered almost seven times that number. They were rookies granted, part of a newly formed army, but still, losing but one Nekomata could mean losing decades of nurturing and training and schooling.
Alisson sighed. In a war of attrition, Sidonia would not last against the two nations’ full might; certainly they’d hold out for a long while, but their resources and manpower would run thin. Their saving grace was that the human nations didn’t regard them with much priority; the Principality had diverted but a fraction of their military to their ‘war’ with Sidonia. The humans knew that if they were to try to take Sidonia over, they would be losing a hell of a lot of their power to do so, which may leave them vulnerable to other nations; and ultimately, a speck of land, however fertile, wasn’t worth that.
Well, there was also Andestine. The one nation that considered the destruction of Sidonia and the eradication of all Nekomata to be a priority. It was in their constitution; the cleansing of humanity. The only good non-enslaved humanoid was a dead one, and so on and so forth. It was odd coming from them, Andestine, the most democratic and prosperous nation for humans. They were usually isolationists though, on their own continent to the east of Aleeze. It couldn’t just be a hate for subhumans that gave them that enmity against Sidonia – Alisson had long thought that there was some deeper feud between Sidonia herself and Andestine, but as a simple soldier, he wasn’t too privy on the decision making at the top.
“You look like you’re having a nightmare where you sit, why don’t you try getting some rest, Alis?”
A large man bore over him, smiling. Alisson returned the gesture, and mumbled half-heartedly, “I was just thinking about Harshel company was all. There’s no need to worry about me, Daventdale.”
Daventdale Se Sabathi was the closest thing Alisson could call to a real older sibling. Daventdale was in fact younger than him, but oozed a magnitude more of masculinity, and especially height.
“I’m sure they’re fine. Leave it to our captain to worry. You’ve always treated us all like apprentices.”
“That isn’t too far from the truth though, right?” A large woman suddenly broke into their conversation.
If Daventdale was like his brother, then the 51st‘s best healer, Claus Fauxzier, was like his mother, really, the mother of every Sidonian around her. Many a time a 51st had awoken from near death, with her doting face and motherly remarks looming over them. Even if a man was cut in two, or shot to pieces, Claus would still put up the same calm front all the same.
Claus knelt near Alisson, handing him and Daventdale a cup of steaming tea.
“Your protection over us is what let us become an elite unit.”
Alisson smiled in thanks and sipped at the tea. “After what happened to my first two actual apprentices,” Alisson started, but then quickly realized his mistake and shut his mouth, averting his eyes, frowning.
Daventdale was quick to change the subject, “If the Caliphate did try to go to war with us, that would just mean more work for us, nothing to sweat over. It’s not like every one of their soldiers is a Vai’egard, and neither is Andestine or Irine that way.”
Alisson took the topic and ran with it in his head, eager to push the former out of his mind.
“Yes…” Alisson started, “The average Sidonian is far stronger than the average human warrior, and us even more so…The problem is that the humans have a far higher spectrum of power than us…”
Factor in their higher population, and that meant that humanity, despite relying on swaths of peasants for their military, still had more elite forces than Sidonia did, and that the very edges of power, were mostly held humans.
“We can always just ask your big sister for help if we see anybody we can’t handle.”
Claus remarked offhand. Alisson’s eyes widened and his heart suddenly became pained for whatever reason.
“Y-yeah…She is, very strong, after all…”
Alisson gulped down his entire cup of tea, forgetting about its heat, before standing abruptly and declaring quickly, “I’m t-turning in for the night.”, and with a flare of his cloak, turned away and walked off toward his tent.
Daventdale quickly continued the conversation, “Or Lady Salchyon…those guys in the 57th are seriously physically able…They earn their title of ‘Halberdiers’ in my book any day…” Gradually his voice was drowned out.
As soon as Alisson entered his tent, he fell to his knees.
Alisson clutched his heart, sweat forming on his forehead. He took a few deep breathes, and after a long moment, recentered himself.
“Just the mere mention…” Alisson smiled to himself. “How pathetic I am.”
But perhaps the thoughts of his apprentices had left him in a weakened state of mind, yes. Alisson needed to be more vigilant, or else his mask would slip from him. Alisson grabbed onto his shoulders to stop himself from shaking.
…
Later in the night, sure that the captain was out of earshot, Claus cautiously asked during a break in the talks of geopolitics,
“Why did Alis turn pale when you mentioned his sister?”
By this point, the other company commander, Alieri, had also sat by, and strained her ears to listen. Daventdale, the one whom the other 51st recognized as being the closest to the captain out of all of them, simply shook his head.
“Same reason you shouldn’t ask him about his apprentices. History. Bad history.”
“Alisson is strong so…anything that bothers him like that must be…” Alieri trailed off.
Daventdale closed his eyes. “The reason he’s so strong in the first place is because of that history. All powerful fighters like him have gone through horrors we can’t even comprehend. Just be thankful he isn’t twisted in the head, it seems to be a recurring theme with those at his level…even Lady Salchyon is, well, you know…and people say that his sister, the strongest of all Nekomata, is, well…”
Daventdale shook his head, not wanting to espouse bad rumors that he himself had trouble believing.
Alieri shuddered after hearing Daventdale’s words. “I wouldn’t want to think of anyone else being our captain…we’re really lucky to have someone who cares for us as much as he does.”
Daventdale stared into the fire. “Alisson’s lost a lot of friends in his life. He even lost his closest partner, Rickard Aud Regadonia…Sometimes I wonder if he’s just projecting Rickard onto me.” Daventdale shook his head.
“The Regadonian Slaughter left many of our fratello dead, isn’t there only one surviving member of that House now?”
Daventdale nodded, but then waved his hand, “Enough talk about the captain. You know all people of his level would just get offended by any kowtowing.”
The three of them stared up into the sky. At Alisson’s level. That peak of power, unreachable by them, they shouldn’t even be standing by his side, much less fighting under his orders.
…
They arrived at the Capital early in morning. The city had been called ‘Sidonia’ in years prior, but having a person, country, a ship, and numerous works of art all called the same thing wasn’t exactly efficient for the ergonomics of communication; now, the residents simply called it the ‘Capital’. Its name embodied what it was, the heart of Sidonia; it’s beating heart of culture and trade, prosperity and advancements. The city itself even looked the part, for an outsider to even gaze upon it would take the breath out of their throats – Alisson had seen it happen before.
Resting at the end of the Sidonian peninsula, half of the city bordered on water, and other half, was protected by layers of walls. Walls so tall and thick that the residents liked to joke that only Sidonia herself could break through them. That would be leaving out the thousands of guardsmen of the city, its multiple defensive siege emplacements, and even a few magic artillery batteries here and there, rare for the magically deficient nation of Sidonia.
Of course, that was without mentioning the two entire armies that were currently camped outside the city. The 1st and 2nd Sidonian armies. Just seeing all of their tents made Alisson feel safe. They were mobilized for a reason however, and would soon be departing. Passing the fields of crops of the third wall, many farmers stopped and waved at them, Alisson especially, like he was some sort of celebrity. That wasn’t far from the truth, being the third strongest in Sidonia, but Alisson held it as one of his vices; Just because he was higher in rank for whatever reason, social or militarily, didn’t mean that he was immediately some infallible being that always spoke the absolute right.
Alisson and his cavalcade of 51st made their way to the Rolaign. The Rolaign was the citadel of the Capital, the most heavily defended structure in all of Sidonia, perhaps the world. That was of course, because the Lady herself resided there. The building towered over the rest of the city, looking more like a mass of concentric circles than a castle; but nested in its layers of walls and keeps was the most robust defense the nation could muster – The protection of their Lady, their absolute, was a priority, any Sidonian would happily throw themselves into harm’s way to protect her, because she was just that important to the functioning of the nation, even to the Nekomata as a species.
Entering the Rolaign, he parted ways with his 51st, they headed off toward their barracks whilst Alisson reported to the Lady. There was a great number of stairs that he needed to ascend, but it wasn’t a journey he was unused to taking. The halls were adorned with blue silken rugs, every wall had some sort of ornate design and accent, and you couldn’t go a hallway without passing a piece of artwork. At the bottom levels of the Rolaign, a great many staffers flitted to and fro, going about their business; they were more lively than usual, probably because of the 1st and 2nd armies parked outside the city and the subsequent management of their logistics for their upcoming departure.
The upper levels however, were far less crowded. Eerily so. These majestic halls and rooms, clad in the finest materials and furniture, were wrapped in an aura of stillness. In some odd way, the beating heart of the country was the most silent part of it. Finally, he reached the main doors to the Lady’s very own chambers, large, metal things, more aptly described as doors for giants. Alisson took a deep breath, and pushed his way into the room.
The Lady’s personal chambers were less like a bedroom and more like an alter. Only gray stone adorned this place, the only light being that of the rays of pure white which streaked in from high in the room, from windows unseen. It was probably one of the largest enclosed spaces in the world, a mage could comfortably fly circles near the ceiling without any fear of claustrophobia, that is, if they didn’t hit any of the many stone pillars. The room was circular in nature, the edges of which were clad in black shadow; the but the center of which, sat Lady Sidonia herself. She sat at a pure white tea table, before which was a Lord and a few attendants, already having a conversation with her before Alisson had entered.
Alisson tepidly stepped toward them, and, satisfied that he was a good enough distance away not to disturb them, knelt, prostrating himself, until Sidonia called upon him.
“I understand, My Lady. Leave it to the Salchyon House to subjugate the barbarians of the East. We will end their insurrection quickly.”
The lord, the most prestigious and powerful in all of the empire, was Lord Salchyon. He was the Lord of the Salchyon House, the largest noble house of Sidonia, and was the chief supporter of the 1st army. Alisson’s own house, Nuam, was in a close second behind Salchyon, and consequently had more ties to the 2nd army.
“Though I must ask My Lady…What if the humans attack while we are away? The 1st and 2nd armies represent the majority of your power, surely it more wise to send the 3rd or the 4th to deal with an issue such as this…”
Obstructed by the large frame of Lord Salchyon, Lady Sidonia replied,
“I wish to know that the job will be done with total confidence, and I don’t believe I have anything better for you or Lord Nuam to do in the meantime; Use this as a chance to gain veterancy and experience.”
Lady Sidonia’s voice was serene, motherly, and oddly soothing to Alisson. It made his heart feel at ease, his ears hummed, and his eyes suddenly felt soft and tired. At the same time however, they held an incredible authority that radiated through Alisson; If Sidonia were to say ‘Take your own life’ even if it was off-hand, or in a mumble, Alisson wouldn’t hesitate to stand and run himself through with his own blade. It wasn’t something he could explain, obeying Sidonia was just the right thing to do.
Lord Salchyon nodded in response, and turned with a flare of his cape. Alisson, his eyes closed, staring down into the floor in submission, only felt the large man and his attendants walk by, but could eerily feel Lord Salchyon’s gaze pricking at him. Whether this was due to the normal tension between the Nuam and Salchyon houses, or because the lord knew something Alisson didn’t, Alisson couldn’t wager on.
The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.
After Lord Salchyon closed the door to the chamber – A noise that echoed through the air – Sidonia finally acknowledged Alisson,
“You may rise, Alisson.”
Alisson did so, and set his gaze on the Lady as he stepped toward her. Mimicking the coloration of Sidonian flags and armor, insignias and tapestries, her hair shone a colorless white, while her eyes bore through him with their piercing blue. Her face was motherly, and physically to be sure, she was mature as well, easily looking like an elder Nekomata in their 900s, but human-wise, she only looked to be an adult in their prime.
She bore a slight smile, one that pricked at Alisson’s shoulders. It was a smile that couldn’t be deciphered. Was she smug? Was she angry with him? Or was she genuinely pleased to see him? The uncertainty always left Alisson a little on edge. As if to ail his thoughts, she only smiled deeper, and only then could her emotion be deciphered as something devious, and playful, an expression that matched a child more than the overlord of the Sidonian Empire.
“My Lady.”
Alisson fell to a knee, resting a hand on his heart, and bowing his head.
“Please,” Sidonia gestured to one of the open seats at the small tea table. “Take a seat. You have much to tell me, don’t you?”
She tilted her head expectantly, and Alisson nervously swallowed a knot in his throat before nodding. He sat down at the pure white seat. It was oddly uncomfortable.
“My Lady. The border with the Jedathari Caliphate was nearly trespassed not a week to this day.”
Alisson’s voice was shaky, but he tried his hardest not to stutter. Sidonia interlocked her fingers on the table, indicating for Alisson to continue.
“A force of nearly seventy-thousand humans attempted seize villages just near our borders, with the obvious intent to continue into our land. After confirming this, me and 51st returned to the 6th army’s basecamp, but we found Lord Pusheal and his command staff dead. A decapitation strike, My Lady. Lord Pusheal, in his final moments, left command of the 6th to me.”
Alisson closed his eyes. “I acted in accordance with standing orders, and took it upon myself to annihilate the human trespassers. I personally tracked down and destroyed the unit that killed Lord Pusheal, while the rest of the 6th was able to drive away the invaders, but they may have lost as much as an entire division doing so.”
Alisson hesitated for a moment. “…Which may include an entire company of the 51st.”
Alisson bobbed his head low in shame for a moment, expecting a reprimand, but Sidonia only smiled, and prodded, “This unit that killed Lord Pusheal, there was something special about them?”
Alisson looked up to Sidonia. “Y-yes. Upon closer inspection of the bodies…In my opinion I believe the unit to be of Andestine origin, though it is clear they took precautions to not be identified as such.”
Sidonia closed her eyes, her smile weakening. “One may get the impression that Andestine has tried to deliberately force war upon us with the Caliphate.”
“It certainly seems that way…An unprovoked and sudden attack with little preparation and forethought…It may have just been a patrol or skirmish gone wrong on the part of the Caliphate but…”
“But that is highly unlikely, yes, Alisson.” Sidonia sighed, and then stared at Alisson with another undecipherable smile. “This is certainly an interesting development.” She looked up into the ceiling. “But…One division, Pusheal…and a 51st company…I suppose there could’ve been worse loses for a surprise attack like this.” She shrugged. “You did well given the circumstance, Alisson. You have a keen ability to take command when it is necessary.”
Alisson was about to deny the praise, coming from Sidonia, it was unnecessary and beneath her, but she continued, “There’s a reason I gave you the rank of Marshal after all. Were it any other unit, I do believe there would’ve been more catastrophic results, so you have my thanks. What is status of the 6th army at present?”
“On guard and mobilized, Sidonia. I have left command of the 6th with Sir Liedfroy of the 105th with instructions to retreat if he meets any forces that outnumber them with the priority of fighting a delaying action until further reinforcements arrive.”
Sidonia nodded, satisfied. “To the book, as expected of Alisson Vi Nuam. I will mobilize the 3rd and 4th armies then.”
Alisson tilted his head. “But the 1st and the 2nd are already…”
“They have their orders. They are de-facto off the board, Alisson. You heard my conversation with Lord Salchyon, did you not?”
Alisson stared into the floor. “I-I’m afraid I can’t comprehend your brilliance, as expected of-”
“Please, spare me.” Sidonia waved a hand. “For now, remain on standby here with your 51st. If war is truly the outcome of this incident, you and your unit will have a lot of work to do heading forward – I would prefer to keep you close at hand, your 51st is a unit which spoils me with its utility.”
Alisson nodded, and felt a surge of pride to be needed by his Lady, such a display of him and his unit’s worth almost made him break out into a smile.
“Now then, you are dismissed. There is much brinkmanship to be done if war is to be thwarted. Let’s hope our diplomats are up to the task.”
Alisson nodded, and with that, took his leave.
…
The door to Sidonia’s room closed with its usual reverberation. Sidonia sighed.
“I was hoping this wouldn’t come so quickly…” Her mouth curled into a frown, and she twisted her legs around each other in askance.
“Uh oh…The little overlord isn’t doing her job I see…” A sudden presence appeared behind Sidonia. “To see you act so kindly with that brat really pisses me off…”
“Serendipity, please refrain from showing your face during my working hours.”
Sidonia, despite her words, smiled a genuine smile up at the woman who’d appeared behind her. Apophria Vi Nuam, or, ‘Serendipity’, was Sidonia’s strongest card. The strongest Nekomata, and, the only one Sidonia considered a friend. She was adorned in black clothing with orange accents. It couldn’t be considered armor, her garments really were just stylish clothes, but that spoke to the fact that she didn’t need the aid of any items to beat anything in her way. Her hair, like Sidonia’s, was long, but it shared the color of her little brother’s, and so did her eyes. Only, Apophria’s eyes seemed far more devious, they lacked the same seriousness and discipline that Alisson’s did. At her hips, twin rapiers rested.
“ ‘Working hours’ – What’s that, twenty-three hours a day? It’s not like you rest a lot you know.”
Apophria responded, fairly irked, and to this Sidonia smugly responded, “You’re just angry because you haven’t slept with me in a while.”
Apophria blushed and looked away, crossing her arms. “Anyway, what are you going to do if Andestine’s really heading forward?”
Sidonia closed her eyes. “It’s obvious their plan from the start has been to pit us against the all world’s powers. I thought the skirmish with the Principality was suspicious but your little brother’s report on that unit all but confirms it; that Andestine has been inching other the other countries to war with us. Your brother is not as useless as you make him out to be.”
“He was my apprentice after all…” Apophria muttered off-hand. “He’d better be at least a level above the rest of your pawns.”
Sidonia continued, ignoring Apophria’s gripe, “I don’t believe the humans will move quickly enough to warrant the need of the majority of our strength, at least for now. I’d give myself about six-months before the humans truly mobilize in force. Using more strength would only expediate the human’s reason to attack us.”
Apophria nodded. “That’s why you’re sending away Nuam and Salchyon.”
Sidonia smiled. “Well, that, and I just don’t want them arguing through both my ears while we stand idly by, gathering our strength. Better to have them out and about, gaining veterancy for their forces.”
“Oh yeah, I remembered what I wanted to talk to you about in the first place.” Apophria finally stepped before Sidonia, and said with a frown, “Rickard’s little sister is graduating soon, and at this rate…She’ll be joining one of the elite units as an apprentice.”
Sidonia lifted one of her porcelain hands to her chin. “Troubling indeed. We don’t need a loose-end in such a powerful position…”
Apophria smiled, and cracked her knuckles. “Want me to take care of ‘er?”
Sidonia closed her eyes in thought. “No…I believe there’s a better usage for her…” Sidonia sat silent in thought for a moment. “Why yes…” Sidonia suddenly opened her eyes, an ugly smile stretched across her face which ruined her beauty. “I believe we can hit three pieces of housekeeping all in one…”
Her smile faded and she cleared her throat, her face returning to its prior serenity within the blink of an eye.. “Make sure Alisson takes the Regadonian girl as his apprentice. As for Enhérejär…I’ll have some strong words with it in the meantime. All our internal issues will finally be dealt with.”
…
“So that’s it then. We’re to remain on standby for now. The 53rd will probably be handling the diplomacy, so we need not worry.”
Alisson said, leaning back into the booth of the café. The sun would be setting soon, but regardless the commanders of the 51st, Daventdale, Alieri, and Alisson himself, were observing their usual tradition of meeting informally after returning from a deployment.
“I still can’t believe we were attacked like that so out of the blue.” Daventdale shook his head. “But here’s hoping it blows over. We need to get back the front lines with the 5th.”
“Agreed. I’m tired of babysitting recruits.” Alieri remarked, before taking a sip of her drink.
“Well I’m afraid you’ve more babysitting ahead of you.” A new voice entered conversation. Standing at the end of the booth, was a boy not older than Alisson, with soft brown hair and large red eyes that seemed to gleam with intelligence under a pair of round glasses. He was dressed in long, unconventional garb, and was obviously in no way a warrior if his stature were to say anything – He was shorter than Alisson, and just as lacking in masculinity.
Which is probably why him and Alisson had been such good friends since childhood. Now however, him and the 51st worked very closely on operations regarding the retrieval of special artifacts.
“Lente, it’s good to see you.” Alisson bobbed his head. “What brings you here? Don’t you have duties as the chief science officer instead of visiting grunts like us?”
Lente dismissed Alisson’s words with a gentle wave of his hand. “Being chief has it’s perks…And you shouldn’t call yourselves ‘grunts’…you guys are the 51st after all. Just look at how everybody else here won’t even sit near you. You intimidate even your comrades.”
It was true, the rest of the café was eerily empty around the 51st’s booth.
“So, what are you doing here?”
Daventdale, despite his larger frame and piercing green eyes, somehow emitted less authority than Alisson’s question.
“I thought I’d share a drink while I was in this part of town.”
Lente dodged the question, and sat down near Alieri, across from Alisson and Daventdale. After a moment, of watching the rest of the café, he turned to Alisson and shielded his mouth, and said in a quieter tone,
“Reports on Harshel company are…” Lente frowned, and averted his eyes for a moment, before continuing, “The Academy has seen fit to award the 51st with some of the next batch of apprentices.”
The atmosphere in the booth changed immediately. Alisson audibly clenched his hand. “…So they’re throwing us replacements…We don’t need any-!” Alisson hissed.
Lente shook his head. “They’re convinced that Harshel company is gone, Alisson. The 51st needs its strength. This decision is way above me and you.”
Alisson stared down into the table in thought. This must be Sidonia’s doing, or maybe someone in high command. He clicked his tongue, but relaxed his shoulders in resignation. Lente must’ve heard about this from his older brother, the second best in Sidonia, Ardinand Li Arquis.
Lente smiled. “If it makes you feel any better, I’ve seen mostly the same people in the 51st for the last hundred years. You’ve kept a pretty good track record.”
“…I don’t care about records.” Alisson shook his head dully. “My men are gone. And it was my fault. Here I thought losing Ramsey a year back was bad, but here I’ve gone and let down an entire company…”
Alisson clenched his fist even tighter.
“Oh boy.” Daventdale cracked a smile, and then looked to Lente, “If our captains acts anything like he did when Ramsey was killed, I’d take a step back if I were you.” Daventdale shifted position in his seat, getting ready to tell a story to take Alisson’s mind off incomprehensible loss.
Why yes, incomprehensible was the right word. Alisson didn’t feel a thing. That’s how unreal it felt. He wouldn’t believe it. Even met with the plain evidence of the fact that Harshel was no longer by his side along with Daventdale and Alieri, and Lente’s recent news, he still couldn’t believe it.
“…We were on this big Irine ship a while back, when war kicked off with the Principality. But within its holds, was an Andestinian-hero summoner pair!” Daventdale was always good at telling stories. “We were on the deck of ship when suddenly it caved in on itself, and me and Alisson and my company fell through the ship into its hold. We were surrounded right away, and who but the Andestine hero cuts down Ramsey with this massive flamberge. The guy was rocking this huge armor too, Salchyon-like stuff, but Alisson just stabs the guy straight in the chest, no plan, no nothing! Of course, his blade just bounces off and he almost gets his head chopped off if it weren’t for me but seriously! The only time I see Alis actually angry is when he sees harm come to us. I keep trying to tell him he’s not our mother but..”
Lente’s eyebrows were furrowed. “The hero, what happened to them?” He asked.
Daventdale waved hand with a lazy motion. “Oh him? Well, we got our revenge, I’ll tell you that. We cleared out the entire ship, surrounded him and his summoner, and then eventually wore him down and restrained him. After that, we tied him to the ships anchor and threw him off into the ocean. That armor made him sink ‘real quick. We let him drown for a bit before finally killing off his summoner. Guy was probably walking on the ocean floor, can you imagine that?”
Lente shivered.
“I like to think he’s still underwater to this day.” Daventdale shrugged with a smirk.
“So, the apprentices…” Alisson finally piped up. “Do you know anything about this coming batch?” He asked generally, as Lente was high up in power and command, working so close with Sidonia on scientific matters, and Daventdale’s House, Sabathi, being one that had strong ties and many instructors in the Academy. Both of their families however were allied to the House of Nuam, and subsequently, most 51st shared in this fact.
Both of them gave null answers, and Alisson quietly bobbed his head in understanding. The three of them talked for a while about this and that, but Alisson was busy elsewhere, buried in thought. He stared out the window, into the crimson sky, turning darker and darker by the minute.
As his friends talked amongst themselves, he felt that familiar emptiness in his stomach. That pain of a hunger that was never satisfied. Or at least, one that when it had, was taken away shortly thereafter.
“Jackson…Bunsen…Rickard…Harshel…”
He muttered inaudibly to himself, the faces flashing by in his head.
Alisson noticed that all of a sudden it had became quiet, only to realize that everyone was staring at him – He had said their names aloud. Alisson’s face blushed a shade of red, and he quickly stood.
“I must be returning to my House soon. It’s getting late.” He declared.
The commanders and Lente Li Arquis said their goodbyes, albeit dubiously, and Alisson made his way back to his home.
…
"“Welcome home, master Alisson.”"
The pair of twins that were Alisson’s personal servants were the only ones to greet him when he entered the Nuam Keep. All of the other personnel had departed along with Lord Nuam, leaving the keep barren of anyone else. Or so Alisson had thought.
“Master, you have a visitor.”
“Master, it seems there is someone who wishes to speak with you.”
Now just who could that be?
Alisson asked himself as he walked to the waiting room of the keep, flanked by his servants. He didn’t manage to take much more than a few steps before he was ambushed.
“Hey, Alis~!”
Shattering the serenity of the silent keep, a loud, booming voice called out to him, as two hands clasped onto both his shoulders. Almost fainting from the shock, Alisson turned and was met with a beaming face. Clad in full plate armor, as most of the time was she usually, Lady Louise Alderon Salchyon was, like Lente, someone whom Alisson had known since childhood; though the distinct rivalry between their families had for the most part kept him and Louise separated, something Alisson was debating on whether or not he should be thankful for.
“P-please don’t touch me...”
Alisson whined, trying wiggle out of her grip, but her hands wouldn’t budge. Yes, almost certainly, no matter what Alisson did, there was no way he, or any normal man for that matter, could overpower Lady Salchyon, and that wasn’t even factoring in her manifestation.
“What did you do out on the border? Was there fighting? Was it fun? Who did you fight? Why did you fight? Is it another stupid reason? Did you get hurt? Who hurt you? I’ll beat them up!”
She asked an unending stream of questions in a quick tempo that gradually melded into a singular drone from which Alisson couldn’t make out. She bobbed back and forth, never missing a beat, her devious blue eyes darting side to side as she pondered every question before it left her mouth not a second later. Her bright blonde hair, a staple of the Salchyon bloodline, ruffled back and forth, and ignoring her massive plate armor, one wouldn’t think that this girl had the title of the ‘Demon’ of the battlefield.
“W-why’re you really here…?”
Alisson asked. He couldn’t very well stop her from walking into his family’s keep, but it was certainly rude to march in unannounced and then manhandle the resident viceroy. His servants had, in having witnessed this scene a great deal of times before, bowed, and shuffled to the side.
Lady Salchyon, upon registering Alisson’s question, froze for a moment, her countenance blank. Her face of course slipped back into a smile when she leaned in to Alisson.
“Isn’t it what I’m supposed to do?” Her smile deepened. “Our parents are gone and there’s nobody around if anything naughty happened…” She gave a wink.
Alisson frowned. Of course, he should’ve expected such a stupid reason out of Louise.
“No.” Alisson gave a shake at his shoulders, but she still didn’t let go, “I don’t know where you got that idea from but even if Lord Salchyon put you up to it I’d still say no.”
“Aww…” Lady Salchyon’s shoulder’s slumped, and her grip slackened from Alisson’s. “I really wanted to know what all the rave is all about…”
Alisson quickly wrestled free of her grip, and fixed his collar, remarking, “You should just stick to frontline combat, it’s what you do best.”
And there’s no way I’d let my first time be by the likes of one who wasn’t my lover…
Formally speaking, Lady Salchyon held the 4th seat of power, and Alisson the 3rd, as he could beat her in a straight duel. However, she could undoubtedly defeat swaths more soldiers than him in a battlefield environment with her massive voulge and sheer power – The ranking system only took into account power from a dueling perspective. Human soldiers were far more terrified of her than they were of Alisson, but for good reason – He wouldn’t want Louise as his enemy either.
“Mmm…Alisson.” Her face straightened, and she stared into Alisson’s eyes. “I just thought you’d be lonely here all alone.”
Alisson stared into the floor, “I’m…I’m fine…” He was about to continue when he was knocked off his feet by a hard slap from Lady Salchyon. It was a half-assed motion from her, but it still sent Alisson’s smaller frame flying.
“Alright! Check up complete!” Louise pumped a fist in victory, before promptly turning away. “And stop leering at me with those eyes like you’ve got bad ideas, Alis~! You’re such a dirty dog!”
Apparently concluding Alisson was fine alone, she marched out of the Nuam keep. If Alisson’s father had seen such a display of a Salchyon stomping around like they owned the place, he’d be mortified.
Certainly, she was an odd one. Even in knowing her since they were but play-mates, he still didn’t understand what went through that head of hers. Then again, how would somebody who’s specialty was frontline combat act?
All Alisson could do was rub his cheek, red from Louise’s armored gauntlet, silently wishing that she hadn’t left.
***